Kazan looked at me for a long moment.
Then he moved to the bench by the hearth and sat, slow and careful, bringing his face closer to mine. He took both my hands in one of his.
“On the ramp,” he said.
I went still.
“The day I arrived?”
“Yes.” His thumb moved over my knuckles. “I smelled you before I saw you.”
“That is somehow romantic and very strange.”
“It’s both.” His mouth tilted, but the smile didn’t last. “My kind has a bond. Not everyone finds it. Most never get the chance. But when it happens, it happens fast.”
“How fast?”
“Just one breath and I knew.”
Oh. My pulse kicked.
“I knew before I knew your name.” He didn’t look away. “I knew you were mine.”
“At the spaceport,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You knew the whole time? About this mate thing?” it was a bit hard to wrap my head around.
“I did.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“No.”
At least he didn’t try to soften it. Kazan didn’t do that.
I appreciated that. I also wanted to shake him.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you’d just run from a man who called ownership love.” His jaw flexed. “James put pretty words on a cage. If I told you there was fate between us two days after you landed, what would you have heard?”
Damn it. Damnhimfor being right.
His gaze dropped to my hands in his. “I thought if I couldn’t say the word, I could at least make sure you had choices.”
My throat got tight, and I hated it. I’d cried enough this week. I was done. My body did not agree.
“You should’ve told me,” I said, because he should have.
“Yes.”
“But I understand why you didn’t.”
His shoulders eased by the smallest amount.
I stepped between his knees and put my hands on either side of his face. His skin was warm under my palms, rough from the day. His horn brushed my wrist.
